


The Roles of Sons

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Nerdanel leaves, Caranthir demands answers from his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roles of Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fan-Flashworks, challenge "Rough"

Caranthir threw the comb roughly across the room, not waiting to see it land at the base of the wall.

“Why would you wait until now to tell us this? Why not earlier?” he asked.

Fëanor closed his eyes briefly before reaching out to touch Caranthir on the shoulder, flinching slightly when his son moved away. “I did not know this would happen.”

“You didn’t know that Amil was angry at you? You didn’t know that she would leave – you didn’t know that she didn’t love us enough to stay for us?” Caranthir gestured wildly as he spoke.

“I did not know that she planned to leave this early. Perhaps I pushed her too hard, but I had thought she would wait until the twins were older, and I’d have more time to explain,” Fëanor said. “Please, you have to believe me.”

“Why should I? You love your gems, and Amil loves her statues, and what is left for the sons of two of the greatest creators in Arda? A cold home? The love of each other, as the oldest try to raise the youngest, and the middle ones are left on their own? What, Ata?” Caranthir demanded. “What do I tell the twins when they come asking? What do I tell Maedhros and Maglor when they’re trying to run the household themselves because you’re busy? What is Curufin to tell Celegorm when you ask for only Curufin’s presence in your workshop?”

“Nothing. You will tell them nothing, because I will make more time for all of you,” Fëanor said. He moved closer as he spoke.

Caranthir held his breathe for a moment before sighing. “I hope you remember to, when you next see your gems or grandfather wants to talk to you, or anything else.”

“I will,” Fëanor replied, finally managing to grasp Caranthir’s shoulder and squeeze it briefly. “I will.”

“I believe you, though I may be a fool for it.”

Fëanor stood there for a moment after his son spoke, before finally giving a sharp nod and walking out.

Caranthir leaned his head back against the wall and felt his body shake.


End file.
